Of Pigeons and Peachiness
by Madam-Merra
Summary: After the fight in the parking lot, Blaine stumbles drunkenly around looking for a friend. He finds one in the most flightful of beings. Blaine/OC Friendship - Klaine references


Blaine Anderson was feeling particularly peachy at this precise moment. Peachy as in fuzzy, you know? Fuzzily sarcastic. That is to say, his mind was fuzzy, but his mood was far from it. He was trying to just stay focused enough to put one foot in front of the other. Divert his attention away from the argument that he had left behind and just focus on moving forward. Had he not been intoxicated, he might have gotten a laugh out of the thought of moving forward after an argument, instead, he had both his arms stretched out on either side of him, trying to keep his balance as he traipsed down the sidewalk, looking like some tripping, sometimes flapping, bird.

Speaking of birds, there's one now.

Blaine let out a yelp and promptly fell flat on his ass, as a pigeon that looked like the size of a cat landed (seemingly out of nowhere) in front of him. He stared at the bird incredulously.

"Do you mind?" He should have realized that voicing this to a pigeon was ridiculous, but right now, he would have to make due. The pigeon cocked it's head to the left, in a 'What's your deal?' kind of way.

"Sorry, it's just, I, well, listen, you know when you do stupid things and then you just want to be alone and then someone just gets in your way, you just, I don't know, freak out at whatever's in front of you?" Blaine and the English language were not on the best terms since he had been at the gay bar. The bird seemed to string it together though, must have been related to the fact that birds and the English language aren't on the best terms either.

"You know what I mean. I can tell." The bird blinked a few times, "I really screwed up, royally. I just wanted to do something crazy, you know? I think the craziest thing I've ever done, minus the fail I just tried to pull off, was this one day when I wore these orange corduroy pants. In March. I know right? Totally not insane. But my boyfriend, oh man, I mean, oh bird, cause that's what you are," The pigeon bobbed it's head, pecking the ground, "You should see what he wears. Like he has this jacket that I swear, Elton John wore in the 70's. He totally pulls them off though. He's just like that, one of those people. Do you know Katy Perry?" The pecking of the bird continued, "You would love her, you've probably heard of her. Anyways, she has this song 'Firework', and he's like that, a firework, so unique and colorful. I guess that's where it comes from. My need for spon-tan-eity." He had to really think through that word. As he did, he reached down to his pants and picked a damp leaf off his leg, it was then he realized he was still sitting on the sidewalk, talking to a gray bird.

The pigeon didn't seem to mind, it was still there nonetheless. It hopped a bit closer to Blaine and nudged his leg a few times. Blaine reached towards it, and ended up softly making contact with its head, stroking the dirty city birds feathery head. He gave a light sigh.

"I know I messed up bird. I get that." The bird hoped a bit closer to Blaine, Blaine stopped petting it as he leaned back on his hands to talk to his new found feathery friend.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" The bird poked it's beak towards Blaine's pocket. Blaine noticed the faint glow of his cellphone screen alight. He reached into his front pocket and opened the new text.

_Text me when u r home so I know u r safe. I am still pissed, but I still love you. Talk l8r - Kurt_

Blaine felt a slight sting in his eyes. With the back of his hand he rubbed at his already swollen eyes, knowing that if he let one tear fall, he would turn back into the crying sad drunk he had been only a few minutes before he decided to focus his energy on moving forward.

"I'm going to have to do some major apologizing aren't I?" Directing his comment to his avian companion, who let out a small chirp as a 'Count on it Curly.'

"Well, thanks for the company. I've gotta fly, no pun intended. Good thing my house is only like, a block away from here. Care to accompany me, fine sir?" He struggled to his feet, brushing any remnants of tears out of eyes, and wiped off his pants. The pigeon gave a ruffle of it's feathers and bounced beside Blaine until he fumbled key into his front door lock, safe at home, knowing that in the morning, he would still have his personal firework, and that together, they could move forward. He knew that out there in the night, he had a feather-headed friend, and in his house, a warm bed.

But first things first,

_Hhome now, loooove yu. Lets tal tomrow njight –V_

Which translates from drunk text as: _Home now, love you. Let's talk tomorrow night - B_

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><p><strong>So this is just a little something I sat down and started writing after watching 'The First Time' again. I got to thinking, 'What happened to Blaine after he left the gay bar?' So I'm keeping this in a style of writing keeping in mind that Blaine is drunk right now, so I wrote it with a bit of a new style.<strong>

**I enjoy reviews, so if you would like to make my day, I would love to hear your thoughts!**

**~ M. Merra**


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